


Inferno

by 8ball



Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, Fighting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mutual Pining, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Violence, but not actually, mutual attempt at unrequited love, yeah theres smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-06-30 18:58:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15757749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8ball/pseuds/8ball
Summary: “People fall out of love all the time. All we have to do is try.”





	1. Open Flame

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

 

 

 

 

 

“We are going to destroy each other.”

 

 

Sanji coughed out the words, followed by the lullaby of blood dripping on wood.

 

“We are going to burn each other to the ground, clenching our teeth and _smiling._ ”

 

There was simple mania in his grin, red staining his teeth, his eyes. It caused knives to push into Zoro’s stomach.

 

“We will close our mouths, and scream until our souls bleed out. That is how this love is going to be.”

 

To demonstrate his point, Sanji kissed him. It burned like coals down his throat, bruised his insides and broke his jaw. He gave everything back, accepting and recreating and giving.

When they separated they were both panting, almost convulsing from the violence, body confused by its fight or flight instincts.

 

“Idiot. Fucking _moron_.” He panted.

 

_(I am already burning.)_

 

Zoro closed his eyes, and passed into unconsciousness.

 

 

-oOo-

 

 

“You’ve got 2 fractures in your left leg, and 4 broken ribs. Your wrist is heavily sprained, I honestly don’t know how you’re not concussed, and there’s internal bruising on just about every inch of your right side. You know what that means, right?”

 

Chopper looked over at Zoro, bandaged like a mummy and lying flat on his back in the infirmary bed. Sanji gave a snort from his own cot, flinching as the action caused his own busted chest to ache.

 

“No morning workouts, only evening ones.”

 

Zoro nodded sagely, unaware of the aneurism he was causing the doctor.

 

“It _means_ , bed rest and no alcohol. You are NOT allowed to do heavy lifting!”

 

Sanji snorted (and flinched) again at the swordsman’s misfortune.

 

“And _YOU_ can’t smoke again until the blood in your lungs is clear.”

 

The cook gave a long groan, flopping his head back against the wall. His hair hung around his face, untidy, gorgeous. Zoro let his eyes linger on the low hanging black pants, the hint of bruises on his hips poking out. Purple dust over pale silk.

 

“We’ll be docking in a few days, I need to give Nami my supply list. I wouldn’t always be running out of bandages if _some_ people weren’t insane morons!”

 

Chopper stomped out of the infirmary, grumbling and slamming the door. Sanji didn’t look even a little guilty as he flicked a cigarette to his lips out of thin air. He looked over Zoro slowly, his eyes leaving shivers on his skin.

 

“I didn’t see you lifting weights in a couple hours if you don’t see me light this up.”

 

Zoro gave a wide, lazy grin.

 

“That all you’re gonna offer, cook?”

 

Sanji licked his lips, flipping the lighter open and inhaling deep, _deep_ into his broken body. He got up slowly, crossed over to Zoro’s bed slowly, bent down _slowly_. He let the smoke curl out of his mouth into Zoro’s face, his lips wet and open only an inch away.

 

“I could also smoke this without giving a single shit what Chopper thinks and then shove my foot down your throat.”

 

Zoro growled, practically starving. Sanji’s mouth twisted up, a wicked smile forming.

 

“Or maybe you’d _like_ to choke on something of mine.”

 

Before he could lunge to pin the cook down the man was opening the door and stepping into the air. A deep chiming laugh floated through the closed wood and snuck under Zoro’s skin.

The taste of blood and tobacco mixed on his tongue.

 

 

-oOo-

 

 

_“So we agree. This is an agreement, yeah?”_

_“For fucks sake-_

_“Shut your ugly god damn face and just_ say _it, marimo.”_

_“Well which is it? Shut up or spea-_

_“I will dump all the alcohol on this boat-_

_“Ok! Fine, I agree, alright? We’ll do it gradually until we can go back to just being nakama. Happy?”_

_“Hardly. You’re ruining my life, you know that?”_

_“Well get over it, you ruined mine already.”_

_Sanji chewed on the end on his dead cigarette, and Zoro was tempted to punch himself in the face for wanting to replace it with his mouth._

_“Whatever. We can do this, it can’t be_ that _hard.”_

_Silence again, feeding on the uneasiness._

_“People fall out of love all the time. All we have to do is try.”_

 

-oOo-

 

 

When they fucked they didn’t make love or have sex or fool around.

They _fucked_.

It was harsh and hard and everything that they were put together in one tangle of bodies. It was borderline violent, all teeth and nails and hisses of _don’t you dare fucking stop you fucking bastard_. There was anger under their skin, anger from unfulfilling skirmishes, anger from too long at sea, anger at themselves they didn’t understand. But they did understand each other, they knew the anger _there._ When Sanji poured his heart and soul into a new dish and Zoro said _whatever_. When Zoro came up with a new technique and Sanji said _who gives a shit_. Getting in each other’s way yet not being able to move without doing so. Their paths didn’t so much as intertwine as it did hopelessly and frustratingly tangle.

They found release and lay in in the heat of their unresolved commitment.

 

“Pass me my cigarettes.”

 

He looked twice as fuckable after actually _being_ fucked. Golden hair haloing his cheekbones, blue eyes blown into black and lips swollen red. Purple marks hung over his skin like jewelry. He wore the glow of orgasm like a crown, and Zoro forced himself not to stare.

 

“Get them yourself.”

 

He got a kick to his stomach for the words, but he grabbed the slim heel in his hand, needing the excuse to touch. He needed to hold something powerful again, he needed to remember that no matter what he was feeling, he was not fragile- _they were not fragile_. This was an act of release and his soul was not melting to the heat of this man by his side.

 

“You’re such a fucking shit head, you know that?”

 

But he still smiled, turning over, hair splaying across his face and pale body wanting for _touch_ and _mark_ and _hold_. A mark on his shoulder had dried blood on it and again Zoro made his body look far away from where his desire was.

 

“I’m staying here. Do what you want.”

 

 _Do you want to stay? Do you_ want _to_ stay _?_

 

Sanji got up almost immediately, grabbing his cigarettes, lighting one with one hand and pulling his pants up with the other. And then Zoro made a mistake, because he watched and looked and the cook caught his eyes, caught them and held them in his own.

They didn’t have dishonest eyes, the two of them. They had overcompensating movements and harsh words but their eyes were open and _true_. Sanji’s must have seen that want, that weakness of desire and god forbid the fucking affection of love, because he turned away with his bruised neck and nicotine.

 

“Might as well start breakfast prep. Don’t sleep for your whole watch, lazy bastard.”

 

Zoro didn’t say anything. He knew he wouldn’t sleep for hours, maybe days, maybe years to come.

 

 

-oOo-

 

 

Sanji didn’t always flirt like an idiot. He was dramatic and silly and _stupid_ around Nami and Robin, but he _knew_. He subtly moved around the women of port towns with dangerous grace, giving the compliment that he _knew_ would work, offering what he _knew_ would be accepted.

The funny thing, Zoro thought, was that he _should_ look disgusting doing it. Sleazy men bedding women and running away were a dime a dozen, and yet Sanji was gracious. Sanji was selfless, and ridiculously _sweet_ with these women who knew that this man would be gone by morning. Maybe that was his greatest charm. Men came and used them, left them, but to Sanji they were treasures, and that wasn’t some act on his part. He did not lie to them, he gave them his honesty, and his honestly was _you are beautiful, you are special, I am honored_.

It translated to everything he did, probably because it was part of his patchwork soul. No one else seemed to realize what he was doing though. When he made Chopper candy just because, or when he brought Brook tea at midnight. When Robin was a little too quiet, and suddenly there was hot coffee by her side, or when Usopp caught a cold and has two different selections of soup brought to his bedside. Sanji was kind the way Zoro was a swordsman. It was who he was down to the core of his heart, and it would be who he was even after he wiped the blood from his shoes.

So Zoro let the cook have his women at port, knowing he was somehow _giving_ more than he was taking, knowing that it was what he needed, knowing that he would come back (not to be Zoro’s, never to just be Zoro’s.) to give Chopper his candy and Brook his tea and Luffy his god damn meat and everything anyone ever needed that he could physically give.

 

“What do you want (need) mosshead?”

 

It was always right there, under his words, willing to give and give and give.

 

“I just came here for (you) some booze, you (incredible) shitty cook.”

 

Zoro let the cook have his hidden words, if only as excuse to keep his own.

 

 

-oOo-

 

 

“ _Fucker_.”

 

Sanji spat the words out, mixing with the blood in his mouth. Zoro heaved a breath, trying not to see double. There was lead in his stomach, and all he could think was _two bullets or three_?

 

“Jesus, I think my toes are broken. Come _on,_ kelp brain, we need to _move_.”

 

Zoro just nodded, grabbing the hem of the cook’s jacket. He wasn’t grabbing it because he was _dizzy_ or anything, he was just _tired._

 

“Zoro, hold your stomach damnit, you’ll bleed out like that and I’m _not_ carrying your corpse back.”

 

Everything was too fucking bright.

 

“Shut up. Hurts.”

 

It was like the world was made of bullets and blood and _Sanji, always Sanji_ , and Zoro realized two things at once.

 

“Mosshead! _Come on_!”

 

First, it was definitely three bullets, not two.

 

“Are you _seriously_ passing out right now?!”

 

Second, try as he damn well might, he still _loved_ -

 

(Third, he was passing out, but Sanji would carry him back anyways.)

 

 

-oOo-

 

 

Luffy was their leader for many reasons. He was brave, strong, inspirational, _amazing_ in so many ridiculous ways, but that didn’t change the fact that he was also a stupid kid with a stomach five times the size of his brain.

 

“Nakama aren’t supposed to be like this.”

 

But he was still so fucking _insightful_ when he wanted to be, and god, it scared Zoro half to death sometimes.

 

“The cook and I always fight, this isn’t anything new, Luffy.”

 

Sanji was making his own pasta in the galley. They could both see him working through the porthole, with his tense shoulders and cigarette smoke. Luffy gave him a slow, cat-like blink.

 

“You guys always fight on the outside, and that’s ok. But you’re not supposed to fight each other on the inside. It makes you too sad.”

 

“I don’t-

 

The captain extended his arm, pointing a finger a space away from the swordsman’s one good eye.

 

“You’re sad, all the way through your eyes-er, eye. It’s in your heart, so it’s leaking out.”

 

Zoro couldn’t meet his gaze. He turned back to Sanji, saw the way the cook was fumbling with his lighter once more, saw the way he gave up, and let his unlit cigarette hang in his mouth while he returned to his work. His hair was brushed and neat, his suit was clean, his face was beautiful. A moment passed, and out of nowhere a gentle smile brought light to the man, and brought an ache to Zoro’s chest.

 

“I’ll sort it out. It’s just me, so don’t bother Sanji about this. Please, Luffy.”

 

_Don’t let him see how ugly I have become in my weakness._

 

“You’re wrong. But I’ll still let you fix it.”

 

Luffy was gone the next instant, swinging through the galley door and climbing all over the cook, begging for scraps. Zoro watched, transfixed by how utterly stupid Sanji looked with their captain wrapped around his legs and back, while still pulling off enough grace to flip the vegetables in his pan.

 

 

-oOo-

 

 

 

“ _God-_ fuck!”

 

His blonde hair was almost dripping with sweat, chest heaving and flushed so _red_. Zoro licked it, wondering if he could still taste the blood under the salt. His tongue found the crevice in Sanji’s collarbone, a long curve that could catch rainwater. He thrust again, hard but not fast like the cook wanted. The moan falling from kiss bitten lips stung Zoro’s ears, touching him like barbed wire coated in honey. Those lips were just so fucking _red_.

Red like the deck and leather shoes. Red like his swords and his hands. Red like the bullet they had only removed from Sanji’s thigh a few hours ago.

Zoro found the wound, stitched up and covered under his palm, and he heard the hiss of pain as he pressed down the same time he thrust back into the man under him.

 

“ _Asshole_.”

 

Sanji bit into Zoro’s shoulder, enough to tear the skin a little, a retaliation that only threw the swordsman into a further state of ecstasy. He pushed into Sanji harder, pulled their chests flush, held his fresh wound. He knew this was bordering an intimacy they did not indulge in. He couldn’t find it in himself to care, only to _want_.

 

“Ah- _ah_! Faster, _god_ , just-!”

 

And then Sanji was on top, moving how _he_ wanted them too and Zoro felt the blood from his leg, the stiches popping. It dripped onto his stomach, and he watched as it slid across the sweat, watched as Sanji took Zoro’s dick into his body again and again and again, and he came with his head hitting the floor and his teeth clenched so he wouldn’t call out the other’s name.

He returned to his body, curses thrown his way and he flipped them again, letting Sanji curse and moan and be desperate and sinfully gorgeous. He swallowed the blonde, sucked, held his hips, felt the blood. As the cook came Zoro moved, pulling his body up, shadowing the thinner man and just _looking_ as Sanji disappeared into his own pleasure.

They remained still, and then he moved, gently, lifting a limp, pale leg. He pressed his lips to the surrounding area of the tender injury, felt the skin shiver and blue eyes trailing his movement.

 

“Bastard. If it gets infected I’ll cut off your dick.”

 

Zoro licked some of the blood away, catching Sanji grimace in disgust. He brushed his lips against the bumpy lines of the broken skin, trying to feel the exact thinness of it, the _fragility_ under his own skin that fell to nothing at the hand of a now dead enemy.

 

“You’d miss it too much if you cut it off.”

 

A foot caught his shoulder, pushing him over to the cold side of the crows nest, sure to leave a small bruise to match the teeth marks on his other side. The smell of tobacco hit him, and he saw Sanji putting on his shirt, examining the wound. Zoro stayed where he was, (always) watching him.

 

“Does it hurt?”

 

The cook froze for a second, letting his hair curtain as he peered at Zoro through it. In the dark his skin was the same color as his white shirt. His eyes glowed.

 

“Fuck off. It’s fine.”

 

Of course there was no honestly in words between them. Zoro had forgotten for that one moment what their relationship _was_. Harsh, addictive and angry. No room for caring because god forbid a weakness is shown. They left the marks on each other, they didn’t patch them up though.

(Except.)

Except today when Sanji’s flesh wasn’t as invincible as it should have been, and it wasn’t _Zoro_ leaving a mark. He had killed the faceless man, cut through his gun, sure, but it didn’t take it back. Sanji’s blood had spilled, and in that one moment it happened it had been an insult to the swordsman that something of _his_ had almost been _taken_.

 

“Stay here tonight.”

 

Zoro wondered which one of them was more surprised by the words. He had spoken them out loud, pushing into forbidden territory like digging his fingers into Sanji’s wound. And he should know, should have _learned_ that this would not end well.

 

“There’s no blanket up here.”

 

And yet it wasn’t a no, there was no refusal right there and Sanji was fucking _smart_ so he _understood_ -

Zoro rolled over, stood up. He walked over slowly, careful not to move too fast. Grey eyes burned holes in his skin. He could not approach him like prey when they were both predators.

He draped his body over Sanji’s, knowing they were unclean, that they should at least put on pants, and yet this body under his touch, his hands, his legs, their chests _together_. They were only separated by the walls they made up.

 

“Go to sleep, shit-cook.”

 

There was fire in those blue eyes, indignant of his words and, always, _always_ burning.

 

“This is dangerous.”

 

He whispered those words, those flames from his tongue. They left charcoal marks in Zoro’s stomach. They burned the butterflied dancing in there.

It _was_ dangerous, it was _terrifying_ and maybe wrong but they were on fire weren’t they? Turning to cinders together. He kissed the cook, just to feel the way the heat ate him alive.

 

“ _We_ are dangerous.”

 

He argued it and kissed Sanji again, addicted.

 

“Zoro.”

 

And again, to swallow the man’s words and the taste of anger.

 

“Idiot, what ar-

 

And _again_ -

 

“Zoro, _enough_!”

 

He froze, body coiled taut as Sanji pushed him back and away and out of reach. He obeyed his touch (not afraid, he did not fear, fear was a _weakness_ ) out of understanding.

 

“The weight this shit carries, this _choice_ , we agreed not to carry it. We _both_ made this deal.”

 

He was dressing again, more fully with buttons being done and trousers being pulled up over crusted blood. Zoro felt his sanity slipping with each movement.

 

“What if I changed my mind?”

 

Despite how steady his voice was the mantra of his mind screamed into his ears over and over again _you fucking idiot._

_What are you doing?_

 

But Sanji was running away, fleeing Zoro’s words with every button done up. His mouth was a hard line and his eyes were closed.

 

“I’m going to the bunk room. You stay here tonight, clear your head.”

 

He wanted to scream at Sanji, to hit him, to pull him back against his body, undoing his clothes and his barriers and his words. But there was a something in his chest hurting (not his heart) so badly ( _not_ his heart) he could barely _breathe_ , let alone speak.

The cook left, and the swordsman closed his mouth and screamed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Scorch Marks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok sorry its late but I blame my computer!!! Big shout out to the lovely donutsandcoffee for keeping me sane while I kept trying to post this thing

 

 

 

Zoro well and truly _loved_ fighting. He didn’t always go looking for a fight like Luffy, but when the fights came to him he embraced them with with his entire being. He was made to carve out his place in the universe by carving out flesh and bone.

That being said, taking a hammer to the skull and passing the fuck out before he even hit the deck _while being stabbed_ was not something he considered fun.

When he woke up he felt like he was re-learning what a hangover was all over again, 15 years old and ready to pass out from the head pain alone. Except it wasn’t just the head, there was definitely something fucked with his side and _oh right I was stabbed._ He remembered the guy swinging the hammer, smiling without most of his teeth, and Zoro took a bit of pleasure in knowing that at the very least he had probably died a stupid, shitty death since Zoro was alive in the infirmary.

 

“Oh, You’re awake.”

 

Zoro couldn’t count the number of times he had woken up in the infirmary, but he _could_ count on one hand the number of times Nami of all people had been there when he woke up. It never ended well for his wallet, or his mental health usually.

 

“Why are _you_ here?”

 

“Careful, I could have sold your swords while you were out. Maybe next time I will.”

 

She flipped her hair casually, long and orange and annoying because it was _Nami_ and _what the hell did she want_?

 

“What the hell do you want?”

 

“To figure out what’s _wrong_ , asshole. This is the fifth time this month you’ve gotten a serious injury and catgut isn’t _cheap._ Chopper’s about this close to having an aneurism and Luffy said he already talked to you so _I’m_ stuck on stupid swordsman duty. Now _spill_.”

 

Was it really the fifth time? That would explain the soreness alright. But _still_ -

 

“Why _you_? Are you being paid or something?”

 

Nami gave him a _look_ like Zoro was a particularly ugly stain on her more favored shirts.

 

“Robin’s calming Chopper down, Frankys still pissed about the railing incident yesterday, Brook is too polite with you to be honest, Luffy apparently had this talk with you already, and Usopp is on Sanji duty because you _both_ need to fix your shit!”

 

 _Huh_?

 

“What’s wrong with the cook?”

 

Nami seemed like she was trying very hard not to pull her hair out.

 

“I. don’t. _Know._ You idiots don’t _talk_ about anything, you just beat each other up or beat the ship up and be _idiots_ in general! I was tallying up costs for out next supply run and Sanji has gone through twice as many cigarette packs! _Twice_ , Zoro! Do you know how expensive tobacco is?”

 

“So he’s smoking more, big deal. Get Chopper to yell at him about health or whatever.”

 

“He also _forgot_ the special ‘ladies only snack’ a few days ago.”

 

“He has to feed Luffy, he’s busy. Who cares?”

 

“His shirts haven’t been ironed recently-

 

“What are you, his mother?”

 

“ZORO! God damnit what’s going _on_? You two have basically been _married_ since the crew started-

 

“ _What.”_

“-And yeah, you guys have relationship drama a lot-

 

“We do not have fucking ‘ _drama’_ don’t use that word-

 

“-But its never been this bad! If you love each other-

 

The glass cup on the table shattered as it hit the floor, knocked over as Zoro left the bed far too swiftly for his injuries. Blood immediately began soaking into the patch on his side, and he let it bleed, glaring down at Nami, _daring_ her to keep talking.

 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, so shut the hell up and mind your own fucking business.”

 

Nami met his glare, brown eyes violent and unyielding despite all the death stained on Zoro’s soul, all the pain he could inflict. She feared none of it.

 

“We are nakama. A problem for one of us is a problem for all of us.”

 

“We dont _have_ a problem.”

 

“Then why don’t you nap anymore?”

 

Fuck. _Fuck._

 

“Why does Sanji only sleep two hours?”

 

_I didn’t know that._

 

“Why are you avoiding each other?”

 

_Because it hurts._

 

“What is it about love scares you?”

 

“EVERYTHING! EVERYTHING ABOUT LOVE IS WORTH FEARING AND WORTH _HATING_!!”

 

Nami learned back, flinching from his voice and letting nervousness flash over her features for a moment. There was an angry, injured man before her that knew how to kill people without even touching them, and she wasn’t stupid. That didn’t mean she would bow down and fear Zoro like he wanted her to though. The door burst open, and both members broke eye contact.

 

“Zoro! What’s wrong? We heard yelling!”

 

Chopper, followed closely by Robin entered the infirmary. Robin looked on edge, and exchanged a glance with Nami, and Zoro recognized her tenseness as a preparedness for fighting. Chopper was the only one oblivious and close to tears regardless, taking in the open wound and dripping blood on his patient.

 

“I believe it would be wise to leave our swordsman to rest and heal. Perhaps you would like to join me in the aquarium lounge for our evening snack?”

 

Robin carefully directed Nami out of the room, glancing back at Zoro with a complicated look on her face, something that seemed hurt and sad but also kind and worried. It made Zoro feel like something pitiful and ugly. Nami looked back one last time, but all he could see in her eyes was confusion.

 

“Zoro, please! You have to stay still for your wounds to heal! I don’t want to have to sedate you but if you keep doing this I will!”

 

Chopper was fumbling with the bandaged, his blue nose sniffling and heavy bags under his eyes. Zoro felt shame and guilt bubble up in his stomach, floating with the burnt butterflies. Chopper didn’t deserve this. Nami deserved to get dumped overboard but probably not the yelling. Robin shouldn’t have to feel on edge in the place she called home.

Sanji shouldn’t loose sleep over people like Zoro.

 

“I’m sorry, Chopper. I’ll stay in bed.”

 

If his voice shook it was only because of the way Chopper watched him, tired and worried and so, _so_ sad.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

He said it once more as he lay down, because he didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t know what else to _be_.

 

 

-oOo-

 

 

“We need to talk.”

 

It was a long time coming, and Zoro was ashamed to admit he wasn’t the one to say those words. He’d been avoiding, hiding like a coward. He looked up at Sanji, feeling the sweat run down his face and he finished his last push up.

 

“I know.”

 

He was careful with his words, holding them in his mouth the same way he held the glass Sanji handed him. He could break anything if he tried. He didn’t want things to break this time.

 

“…I think, maybe its time to stop. Completely.”

 

Zoro chugged the water, closing his eyes and letting it all sink in. He wondered what kind of expression Sanji was wearing on his face.

 

“So the gradual thing isn’t workin’ for you either, huh?”

 

He didn’t mean to sound so bitter, but damnit things were _allowed_ to hurt. He was fucking tired and he could take his injuries and tough them out fine but that didn’t mean the pain stopped just because he wanted it to. No one had to know though. He could still be strong and impossible, and no one had to know. He looked over at Sanji and _oh, that’s the look he’s wearing._

Broken.

 

“No. It’s not.”

 

There was a long, heavy silence where Zoro could only stare at the empty glass in his hand. He didn’t want to look at Sanji and remember running his hand through his hair and tracing his cheekbones. He didn’t want to associate colors of the sky and sea with his eyes.

 

“Sorry.”

 

God, the only thing worse than the straight pain of all this was the awkwardness.

 

“Not your fault. I came up with the stupid idea.”

 

“S’not your fault either though.”

 

They lapsed back into silence, and slowly Zoro held out the glass for Sanji, an offering of sorts.

Except, their fingertips touched and they both froze because _is this allowed? Where do we stand and what are the rules now?_

 

“I thought it’d be easier. To just-to stop. Loving you.”

 

And there it was, that avoidable truth. Blurted from the cook’s mouth like something vile. Zoro flicked his eyes up, burning away like he always, _always_ would be with Sanji.

 

“Fuck you. We both knew this would be hard. Don’t lie to cover up your failure.”

 

Sanji sneered, blood dripping invisible from his fingertips in the way they clenched over Zoros.

 

“Of _course_. Because you just cant make anything easy, can you? Gotta’ doing everything the hardest possible fucking way and call it training or some shit. You could have at least _tried_ you selfish asshole!”

 

Burning again, but hotter, scorching his tongue and down his throat. Zoro was a walking fire pit, with Sanji tossing in logs.

 

“Tried _what_ , Sanji?! You think I’ve been sleeping easy at night? Do you even know how hard it is just to be in the same fucking _room_ as you?!”

 

He remembered when he slept full hours once, probably a long time ago now. He kept himself up at night trying to convince himself that Sanji wasn’t as attractive, wasn’t as strong, wasn’t as good as he could possibly be and therefore _not worth the heartache._

 

“You said all those things! You _held_ me! Made me feel like-like! Like it was ok and its _not ok_ so stop making it seem ok!”

 

Zoro remembers. Soft darkness over Sanji’s skin and asking him to _stay._ He closed his eyes and let that particular failure wash over him. Sanji was right. _Had_ he even tried?

_“This is dangerous.”_

Sanji had been the one trying this whole time. Warning him, them _both_ , again and again.

_“What if I changed my mind?”_

 

And Zoro…

 

_“What if I changed my mind?”_

 

Zoro had been making it so much harder for Sanji.

Something on his face must shown, because Sanji bit his lip, eyes scrunching up like he wanted to look away but he just couldn’t. Anger and fear and sadness and all that pain, written like scars right there in front of Zoro.

 

“I’m…sorry. I’m sorry, Sanji.”

 

The cook swallowed thickly, closed his eyes for a moment and then looked back at Zoro a little clearer.

 

“Like I said. It’s not your fault. You didn’t mean it.”

 

Damn him for still being kind while he fell apart. Zoro partly wished he had never met the person Sanji _was_ inside because if he had just known this asshole, foul-mouthed, egotistical and flirtatious cook, maybe, _maybe-_

_It would have been love anyways. Don’t fool yourself._

 

“I did mean it. That’s why I’m sorry.”

 

Zoro knew, deep in his gut that he was being unfairly cruel. He saw it in the way that Sanji crumpled into himself a little, how his slim fingers fell from the glass and he turned his back, defeated thoroughly. He walked to the hatch door, and Zoro thought (hoped) he would ( _stay_ ) say something.

But he didn’t. He left, and Zoro was left where he was, burning away to cinders.

 

 

 

-oOo-

 

 

 

_“We are going to destroy each other.”_

 

 

-oOo-

 

 

 

Time passed because people die and cities fall and time just doesn’t give a shit. Clocks tick and suns set and the Sunny sailed on and on. Luffy came and tried to get Zoro to talk again, but he saw, again, the sadness all the way through his eyes. He must have gotten the others to stop bothering him too because Nami wasn’t needling him and Franky didn’t even yell at him when he threw one of his weights through the wall of the crows nest. Chopper sat by his side sometimes, reading or grinding medicine, and he appreciated it, but the quick little looks he sent Zoro were packed full to the brim with worry and grief, and it was enough to drive the swordsman insane. Brook played soft sounding melodies that drifted to his ears, and they helped a little. Brook seemed to know when words weren’t enough.

He ate quickly, he didn’t comment on the food. Sanji left alcohol out on the table, skipping their entire process of asking and arguing. Everyone noticed and no one said anything.

And time passed because time doesn’t give a shit about heartbreak.

 

 

-oOo-

 

 

_“We are going to burn each other to the ground, clenching our teeth and smiling.”_

 

 

 

-oOo-

 

 

When they reached a port one day, Zoro took his usual spending money and wondered without the intent of finding a bar and getting wasted for the first time in a while. He walked down alley ways, turned around street corners, took shortcuts through vendor stands and ended up in a shitty little magic house with a fortuneteller who looked like a beggar with stupid earrings more than anything else.

 

“You know any magic spells?”

 

The fortuneteller eyed Zoro, clearly looking for money and nodded eagerly.

 

“Any that _work_?”

 

Again, just an empty nod of the head that meant the loss of Zoro’s money and nothing in return. He sighed heavily, grabbing a few small coins from his pocket anyways.

 

“Whatever. Make me stop being in love. You got a spell for that, right?”

 

And yet another eager nod. The guy stood up, thin and knobby and all bullshit as he waved his hands around with less acting skill than Usopp. He did it for a good minute before Zoro just straight up had enough and threw the coins at him.

 

“The spell if done! You are no longer in love!”

 

The fortuneteller spoke over his shoulder, carefully gathering up his coins with a toothy grin, probably thinking he had actually pulled one over on the swordsman brilliantly. Zoro didn’t give a shit.

He wondered around again until he ran into Robin in a bookstore that he _swore_ had started off as a barbershop and then turned into a dress boutique. She led him back to the ship, even though she clearly wasn’t done shopping and he thanked her in the same silent way she replied that it wasn’t a problem.

He went straight for the galley, something he had been getting pretty good at avoiding, and was about to step inside when he saw a flash of golden hair.

Sanji stood at the sink, washing something, shoulders and body moving as he scrubbed, hair swaying like wheat in the breeze. He was wearing a bone white button up and he was all together just a little too beautiful.

That was all it took. Sanji just _being_ , and Zoro couldn’t even handle that anymore.

 

“What’d you spend your money on, Zoro? Anything cool?”

 

Usopp asks him later in the bunkroom.

 

“Nah. Nothing good.”

 

He replied.

 

“It was just a waste of money.”

 

 

 

-oOo-

 

 

 

_“We will close our mouths, and scream until our souls bleed out. That is how this love is going to be.”_

 

 

 

-oOo-

 

 

“I don’t know what to do.”

 

Luffy turned his head around, large eyes on Zoro, leaping into his soul. His hat billowed in the wind, and Zoro fixated on it as he sat beside his captain on the figurehead. Luffy made a thoughtful little noise, eyes still cutting through Zoro’s skin with destructive perceptions.

 

“Well, Nami and Usopp say you two should talk, but I think you did that and it didn’t work. Robin said she could lock you both in a room together, but then Franky said you would both break the door and they agreed on that. Brook said he’d write a song for you so you guys could dance it out or something but then Franky said something about banging it out and why would he want you banging stuff if he doesn’t want you to break things on the ship? Unless he meant Sanji’s pots and pans but I think Sanji would be really mad about that. Oh and Chopper said he was gonna run more blood tests, but that probably wont do anything unless you’re actually sick. Are you sick Zoro?”

 

Zoro stared at Luffy’s wide, innocent face, and he felt disoriented. He was shocked at how much his nakama were thinking about him, touched, and a little upset, a little amused. He had assumed they would go about their business after a while and let Zoro and Sanji be Zoro and Sanji, even if they were both suddenly quiet and didn’t interact. They both still did their jobs, still _lived_ , but still their crewmates saw their pain and suffered with them, searching for a solution even as Zoro gave up.

 

“I’m…no, I’m not sick.”

 

Luffy looked at him carefully, and Zoro met his eyes evenly, knowing that yeah, he probably still looked a bit like shit, like someone who hadn’t slept in months and was a little lost. But Luffy wasn’t judging him, Luffy was just _looking_ and _seeing_.

 

“Ok. So when what do you want, Zoro?”

 

Well that was an easy question with a hard answer. Zoro wanted a lot of contradicting things, the two big ones being to _stop_ loving Sanji and to _just_ love Sanji. He wanted Sanji to keep his distance and also remove it. He wanted Sanji to keep making him his special non-sweet snacks when everyone else got sugary things and he also wanted Sanji to stop it. He wanted to fight with Sanji and for them to never fight again. He wanted to kiss him and punch him and hate him and _love_ him. But the main root of everything always seemed to just be-

 

“Sanji. I just want…Sanji.”

 

A grin spread wide and slow on Luffy’s face, so big it would have cut his face if he weren’t rubber.

 

“I think Sanji just wants Zoro too. He’s afraid though.”

 

That large, wide grin turned smaller, melancholy.

 

“Ace used to tell me that love can make you really happy, but it can also make you really hurt. I didn’t know about the second part for a while, but I think that’s the part that Sanji’s afraid of. Is that the part you’re afraid of too?”

 

Zoro swallowed, feeling the way everything in his body tensed and wanted to _run_.

 

“Yeah. That’s the part I’m afraid of.”

 

And still Luffy grinned, soft like everything was still going to be ok.

 

“But isn’t it silly to be afraid of something that already happened?”

 

Zoro closed his eyes, rewinding how Sanji had said it was time to stop, how Sanji had _tried_ to stop, how he had been cut and bruised by Zoro’s selfishness.

 

“It could hurt again though. It might-we might really destroy each other next time.”

 

Luffy nudged his shoulder, and he looked up, eyes wide and desperate. A drowning man seeking a rope.

 

“I saw you though. You broke, and Sanji broke too, and you’re both still kinda broken. I can’t fix you, and neither can anyone else on the crew.”

 

“How do we fix ourselves then?”

 

It felt like he was right back where he started, asking Luffy what to do. Maybe there just wasn’t an answer. Maybe Zoro was just that lost.

A warm hand touched his chest, right over his heart, almost making him flinch. Luffy pushed, and every heartbeat thumped against his fingers.

 

“This is the part that’s broken, so you have to take it to the person it belongs to, to get it fixed.”

 

Zoro just stared at the hand on his chest and _the shape isn’t right, the fingers should be longer, skin paler._

Of course he knew Sanji had his entire heart. It didn’t mean he could fix it though. And if, maybe, he still had Sanji’s-

Could he fix it?

 

_You failed him already._

_You could have at least_ tried _you asshole_

_You failed him already._

“Ok. Alright.”

 

He breathed out, maybe for the first time in weeks.

 

“Ok.”

 

Luffy’s smile was big enough to eclipse the sun.

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Embers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if this doesnt post im throwing my computer out the window

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Robin was in the galley, which Zoro had already anticipated. She’d been keeping Sanji company instead of retreating to the lounge to read, and Zoro knew exactly what she was trying to do, making the space Zoro had left empty seem a little less large. Whether Sanji actually liked her being there or not, Zoro didn’t know. Another reminder of how separated they had gotten in a few months time.

She looked at Zoro curiously and a little warily, ready to destroy Zoro limb from limb at Sanji’s defense. She was scared, he realized. Scared because Sanji was supposed to be bright and flourishing and instead he had wilted right before her-all of their-eyes.

There were quiet noises coming from the pantry, and Zoro realized Sanji probably hadn’t heard him enter. He would always leave Zoro as his guard when he was solely focused on cooking, and now Robin was filling even those shoes. He turned back to her, pointed at himself and then the pantry where Sanji was. He didn’t glare or demand, he asked.

 

_Please. I am going to try_.

 

She looked him over, clear eyes searching and finding. A tiny nod, a tight mouth.

 

_I will go, but I go warning you._

She stood silently, drifting like a ghost past Zoro, giving him a final hard look before disappearing completely, ending their silent conversation for the time being.  
Zoro didn’t know what to do now exactly. Should he sit? Surely he shouldn’t just _oh too late fuck shit hell._

Sanji hadn’t seen him yet, carrying a large box of potatoes that just cut his line of sight, and Zoro stood frozen, heart pounding and fighting the urge to run _away._ He hadn’t been alone with the cook even once since their time in the crows nest, and they’d only been speaking when it was unavoidable to _not_ speak to each other, and those times had ended with insults that cut a little too deep into raw wounds. Oh _hell_ Sanji would see him if he turned-

Sanji turned, making to wash the potatoes and Zoro ducked just quickly enough to move out of his line of sight, which was actually a feat on its own since Sanji’s haki was probably (grudgingly) a lot better than Zoro’s in observation. Why was the idiot letting his guard down so much? Zoro kept moving like a slinking cat around the table and chairs, further and further out of Sanji’s field of vision and _what the fuck was he doing he was here to TALK._

In Zoro’s head, it went like this: He turned slowly, approached Sanji, who would be surprised, and they entered a civilized conversation where everything ended up peaches and rainbows. And now, Zoro was a fighter, and this required a certain amount of grace, but that didn’t mean he was actually _graceful_ and so, turning a little too quickly, Zoro tripped, fell, and fumbled onto the floor with the complete grace of a dead fish. Spitting and cursing as the hilt of his swords smashed into his gut and his forehead smacked a chair leg, he accepted his defeat and looked over to the sink.

 

“…Did you want something from the pantry?”

 

_Not unless my fucking dignity is in there._

 

Zoro was tempted to just yell a quick _fuck off_ as he pushed himself up. Sanji was standing with his back pressed against the sink, a potato clutched in one hand and a knife in the other and one visible wide eye. He kept glancing around the room, maybe looking for Robin, maybe an escape route.

 

“Can we talk?”

 

He didn’t ask so much as he blurted it out at full volume, and he was very tempted to lie back down on the floor and knock himself out.

 

“I’m a little busy if you haven’t noticed.”

 

He held up the potato like it was just that damn important. Zoro understood though. If Sanji had come to him a few days ago Zoro probably would have jumped overboard to avoid the conversation.

 

“I’ll help.”

 

“What? No-hey!”

 

Zoro swiped the knife from Sanji’s hand and grabbed another washed potato. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up at how close they were.

 

“How do you want them cut?”

 

“Cubed-wait _no_! Get out of here! Where’d Robin-chan go?”

 

“Dunno, is this size ok?”

 

“It’s a little big, cut- _damnit_ stop distracting me! I said get _out_!”

 

Zoro stopped cutting, turning to fully face Sanji with his entire body, carefully putting the knife down because these were Sanji’s tools, and they deserved respect. The cook glared at him, and Zoro took him in through his one eye. His hair was a bit mused, but still soft looking. His shirt collar was wrinkled, and his tie was stuffed into his pocket with an unusual lack of care. There were deep purple bruises under his one visible eye, and his jaw was clenched like he wanted to break it.

He was still ridiculously gorgeous to Zoro, right down to the curled eyebrow. Perfect for all his flaws.

 

“I’m gonna say some things, and I want you to listen. Please.”

 

The ‘please’ threw Sanji visibly, so much so that he tried to take a step back but bumped into the sink. Zoro didn’t give him time to react though, he went for the kill, brutal and efficient.

 

“Sanji.”

 

His blue eye widened, deep and panicked at where Zoro was leading them in conversation. He shook his head feebly, as if begging Zoro to stop.

 

“ _Don’t._ ”

 

It came out choked from the cook’s throat, and ruthlessly Zoro continued on.

 

“I love you-

 

The bomb dropped and a leg came up for his head, stopped by a sheathed sword. Another kick followed the first, bruising the arm he used to block it. He grabbed Sanji’s ankle, halting him.

 

“I think I’ll always love you-

 

“ _Stop it_!”

 

“And I think you really love me too.”

 

A broken noise escaped the blonde’s mouth before he ducked his head. His hands fluttered at his side, clenching and unclenching.

 

“I _hate_ you. I hate you _so fucking much_ you piece of shit!”

 

Sanji twisted his hips, spinning his free leg up and forcing the grip on his ankle to open, body still moving as Zoro staggered back from the force. His movement was off though, sloppy and wild. The swordsman lunged, tackling him to the floor with banging elbows, holding Sanji down as he thrashed recklessly.

 

“Answer me honestly, just once, just for this-!”

 

Zoro was still trying to speak softly, the way he used to when they were alone in the crow’s nest after fucking and, funny, Zoro always thought Sanji had despised it but now he _knew_. He had rejected it the same way Zoro had rejected the way Sanji played with the hair at the base of his skull, and the way Sanji had laughed open and bright at something silly, and the way Sanji had kissed his forehead after Zoro had gotten hurt and then patched up and was supposed to be asleep. He rejected the things he loved out of defense for his heart’s fragility.

 

“Would it really be so bad to love me? To let me love you, and to be _in_ love?”

 

He was tearing into Sanji, breaking him apart and scattering him and he could see the way his words were hurting him right through his eyes. Maybe Zoro should be more gentle, should try to be something that’s wasn’t harsh and ugly but the truth was not a beautiful delicate thing. Maybe it had started out soft but it had twisted in their combined grasp, morphed into what was now gutting them from the inside out.

 

“What makes you so sure I ever even loved you, huh? Maybe it was all one big shitty mistake.”

 

Those words cut deep, but not bone deep. They lacked the honestly Zoro had asked for, even if they did hurt.

 

“You told me you loved me. You wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

 

“Yeah, well, tough shit. Maybe I didn’t know what I was feeling. All this bullshit about just _knowing_ what love it, well maybe I _don’t_ know! Maybe no one fucking knows!”

 

He spat the words out, looking to the side of the room, head turned on the floor and hair splayed out like spilled gold. His body was limp under Zoro.

 

“I knew. I know.”

 

Sanji jerked his head back, eyes burning into Zoro’s, anger eating him up and lashing out through his mouth like and open flame.

 

“No you _don’t!_ You _can’t_ know!”

 

“We had finished fighting some marines, maybe a few months after picking up Chopper, and I already knew I was falling. You had a cracked head, bleeding so much I was just waiting for you to pass out, and Chopper thought you were gonna _die_ , but you were just sitting there, smoking a cigarette. Like you didn’t give fuck. There was all this blood on your feet that wasn’t yours, and I’d never seen someone accepting death the same way I did. Accepting it for ourselves just as equally as for the people we killed. I _knew_ , Sanji. You were, _are_ , the only one I want by my side. You’re the only one I ever _could_ love.”

 

Zoro let it out, letting it all come out clean and vulnerable because he’s never _told_ Sanji. They had both almost casually agreed on their love, but they each had their own beginning, and this was his. Embarrassing, real, rough and blood soaked. His own unshakable start to being in the most fantastically stupid love.

 

“Why are you doing this.”

 

God, he sounded so fucking gone and hurt. And it was Zoro’s fault, he couldn’t even have the grace of being able to deny that.

 

“Why are you still not answering me?”

 

Sanji looked for all the world like there was a gun to his head and he was waiting for the bullet.

 

“Because saying it out loud makes it real, and making it real is a death sentence.”

 

“So loving me is worse than death?”

 

Sanji gave a twisted, heart-wrenching smile.

 

“Dying _would_ probably hurt a lot less than being in love, shithead.”

 

Carefully, slowly, Zoro let his head fall so it was pressed lightly against Sanji’s neck. He fit into the space between shoulder and head like it was carved out for him. He brushed his lips like a prayer on pale skin.

 

“It’d be easier, sure. But I’d still rather love you.”

 

He could feel the pulse under his breath, beating like bird wings. Fragile and human, tucked under thick skin that just might not be so thick.

 

“…I don’t know if I can do it, Zoro.”

 

The bird wings fluttered frantically.

 

“I don’t know if I can either. But I want to, and I’ll give you my all.”

 

He kissed the fluttering wings, letting them try to settle. His blood felt like acid sliding through his body, screaming at him with the thrum of fear.

 

“Selfish shitty marimo. You’re not even giving me the option to say no.”

 

He wrapped his arms firmly around the slim body, squeezing a bit. Beautiful hands touched the planes of his back, holding him steady. His voice was still broken and small, whispering in Zoro’s ear and tickling his heart.

 

“We could still destroy each other by doing this. We’d fall and the ship would sink with us. Have you considered that? The consequences wont just be for me and you.”

 

In his mind, Zoro saw the Sunny sinking to the ocean floor, unable to prevail without its backbone fighters. He saw Sanji, lying on the floor like he was now, but bleeding out with bullet wounds and stabs, too distracted to fight properly. He saw himself, dead and undignified after loosing to his own lack of focus. Fatal mistakes made by thinking too much with their hearts.

But he felt the Sanji on the floor, in his arms, the one that was _real._ Beneath them both the Sunny moved, and spread out all around them were the people he called nakama, chosen and loved and strong. This was the New World, and their captain would be the pirate king.

What, then, did he actually have to be so afraid of?

 

“Then don’t fall apart. Keep me together and I’ll keep you together, same as always.”

 

_We will become invincible together. We’ll bend the world by Luffy’s side, and I will breathe in when you breathe out._

 

“You’re still not even giving me a choice.”

 

The hands on his back caressed his neck.

 

“You never answered the question.”

 

The hands stilled, and all at once took control, pulling Zoro by the hair so he was eye to eye with Sanji, catching everything spilling out into his eyes before they were kissing, fierce and devastating. Sanji bit and sucked and tasted, taking and destroying it all, burning him to the ground. Zoro tried to fight back, but lost himself as he always did to Sanji, unable to breathe unless the other man did too.

 

“You’re so fucking stupid. I love you. I _hate_ you.”

 

He whispered it like it was a secret between kisses, his mouth touching Zoro’s neck, his cheek, his eyelids. He dragged Zoro’s hand by the wrist, pressing it to his chest above his heart, holding it there so that Zoro could feel the beat matching his own.

 

“This is yours. Take care of it, be kind to it.”

 

The look in Sanji’s grey blue eyes told Zoro that what he said next would hold weight that could either fix their balance or throw them to the ground. He gently, delicately placed a kiss on Sanji’s lips, the kind that could shatter them both with how soft it was. His hand clung to the shirt material over Sanji’s heart.

 

“I will. Even if it destroys me.”

 

Sanji smiled, still sad, a little broken and crumbled, but warm and soft in new ways that had never been just for Zoro. He moved his other hand, still threaded gently in Zoro’s hair to the swordsman’s chest, touching the mirror part of his own body.

 

“And this? Is this mine?”

 

Zoro took that hand in his own, brought it to his lips, touched every finger with a kiss, every knuckle, vein, bump and scar.

 

“Has been for a long time now.”

 

They met each others gaze and held it, accepting all the weight, taking in the change. Zoro clung to Sanji for dear life, and thought _this is what its like to drown and breathe again._

“Turns out I’m shit at falling out of love. How ‘bout you?”

 

Zoro laughed. Open and deep and fucking _free_. He laughed until he felt the prickle of tears in his eyes, until he couldn’t tell his laugh from Sanji’s, until he couldn’t god damn breathe. He tasted salt on his tongue, remembered seeing through two eyes. 

 

They stayed on the floor of the galley for a while longer.

(The world was still too unsteady under their feet.)

 

 

 

 

-oOo-

 

 

 

It was a spring island, unpopulated and small where they made their next stop. The crew hunted, explored, gathered and returned. Everything around them was warm but not hot, and somehow safe. Luffy was strangely subdued, not whining about things to fight and food to eat (as much). Usopp sat by him, building a sandcastle as Nami recorded the island with the quiet scratch of quill on paper. Brook’s violin could be heard from the Sunny docked in the deeper waters, drifting to them on the ocean’s waves.

 

“ _Yow!_ Anyone seen cook-bro? I caught a _super_ lookin’ lizard to grill up!”

 

Franky emerged from the thin forest, dragging the dead thing with Robin and Chopper in tow. They both carried large flowers, smiling softly at each other.

 

“He’s over there, but we can’t bother him right now. He’s with Zoro.”

 

Luffy pointed down the beach, the small outline of two people visible on the shore. Usopp tensed, glancing at Nami who had a similar worried expression.

 

“Are they still being…?”

 

Usopp made a vague hand gesture, unsure where to do with it. Everyone looked to Luffy, who was busy poking the dead lizard.

 

“They’re gonna be ok. We have to let them have Zoro and Sanji time though. They need it to get better.”

 

Nami breathed a sigh of relief with Usopp, and Chopper smiled up at Robin, large and bright and returned fully by the archeologist. Franky nodded sagely. It was as if they had all had the same great weight lifted at once, and now they could breathe.

 

“I saw Zoro help Sanji cut vegetables the other day, and they were smiling! Do you think that means they love each other again?”

 

Robin hummed at Chopper, thinking over her answer. Heads turned her way, curious of her insight.

 

“I think our cook and swordsman never truly stopped loving each other to begin with. They just had a hard time accepting that love and understanding it.”

 

There was a calm, easy silence as everyone turned to look at the silhouettes down the beach. They were close together, walking slowly, perhaps even holding hands. Luffy smiled, eyes wide and soft.

 

“Their hearts aren’t leaking anymore.”

 

 

 

-oOo-

 

 

Midnight was for a parting kiss as Zoro went to his watch and Sanji organized the kitchen. It was for an easy kick, a few insults, and a couple innuendoes. By the time 2AM rolled around, Zoro had become lost watching the shadow in the galley flicker like a candle. When he was relieved of his duty he found himself carding rough fingers through yellow hair. This was his time for soft little thoughts of sweet little things that he would always deny. He whispered all his secret adoration to the sleeping cook, and none of it was actually secret at all.

When he awoke, he didn’t remember falling asleep. Sanji had to get up to start breakfast, and he brushed his thumb along Zoro’s cheekbone, an apology for disturbing his dreaming. He would expect the swordsman to sleep again, but he rarely did. It was too much for his heart to settle again after remembering that everything was real, that this was their love-that this was their love _now_.

It was still made from burning each other like flames placed in their bellies, like melting iron in their veins, like throwing coals on their tongues. It was still destroying each other, breaking their jaws with each (soft) kiss, twisting a jagged knife with every (gentle) touch.

 

_“I love you.”_

Sanji said.

 

_“Even if it destroys us.”_

 

Zoro said.

 

_“It already has. I love you still.”_

They kissed, bones breaking, blood leaking.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaannnd that’s it! Not 100% satisfied with it but my computer is literally about to bite the dust so unfortunately I’m settling for it as it is! I hoping to continue writing (hopefully not ALL angsty shit) and yeah I’ll be in the zosan hell for a while I’m sure so until then thank you!!


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